Therapy
by Jamtasic
Summary: AU : When Draco's dad becomes worried about the "friends" Draco sees he decides its time to take the boy to therapy.


So I found this old AU in my files. Its something I wrote when I was sixteen and I'm not sure if I like it still or not. Figured it was worth posting to have something on my account.

Please tell me what you think. I'm consderiing getting back into writing fanfiction again.

I do not own Harry Potter.

_When I see ghosts they look perfectly real and solid - like a living human being. They are not misty; I can't see through them; they don't wear sheets or bloody mummy bandages. They don't have their heads tucked under their arms. They just look like ordinary people, in living color, and sometimes it is hard to tell who is a ghost._

_CHRIS WOODYARD, Invisible Ink interv_

"Draco, do you feel safe here?" the therapist asks. "Come on, talk to me."

I don't like him. He's white as a sheet with splotchy skin and dark rings under his eyes. He looks like the ghost of a scarecrow wearing a suit with that long body of his. Like someone took him and stretched him out like play-dough.

"Draco, is there anything wrong?"

Yeah, you.

I hug Sharebear close and bury my face into his soft fur.

Dr. Scarecrow taps his yellow nails repeatedly on the arm of his chair.

_Tap! Tap! Tap!_

"Come on, Draco." Father rubs the small of my back. "Tell Dr. Cole about the things you see."

Father's looking at me with big eyes. I haven't seen that look on his face since he told me mummy died.

Is he worried about me? Is that why I'm here? I thought he said there was nothing wrong with me, that it was okay if I wanted to talk to my "imaginary" friends instead of the kids at school, or if I wanted to be alone and read instead of play I thought he said it I was okay.

"Draco, would you feel more comfortable talking to me with your Father waiting outside?"

I shake my head and grip Father's shirt. I don't want to be left alone with this warped shrink.

"Okay, then." Scarecrow looks at his clipboard. "I'm going to ask you some questions. I need you to answer honestly, okay, Draco? No lying."

"Okay."

I can do that. It sounds easy enough. Besides, the faster I do it, the faster I can leave.

I look up at Dr. Scarecrow and the corners of my mouth twitch.

Harry is behind Scarecrow's chair making faces. I try my best to ignore him.

"Now Draco, your Father told me you see people no one else sees."

I nod and eye Harry carefully. Harry is sticking his tongue out at the doctor, making my mouth twitch again.

"He also told me that you tell him they're different each time. Are they different people every time?"

"They come and go. Sometimes they come for a little while to talk to me or they stay in my room for days and don't talk to me. "

"Are they your friends?"

"Some are. Most don't stay long." I wrinkle my nose. "I don't like half of them."

Scarecrow writes this down and Father holds my hand, stroking it with his thumb.

"Why don't you like all of them?"

"Because most of them are cry babies or just want me to do stuff for them."

"What sort of things do they want you to do, Draco?"

Father squeezes my hand.

"They just want me to do whatever. It varies with each person."

"What do they normally want? What do they most commonly ask for?"

I sigh. This is getting frustrating. I'm tired of this cramped room and Dr. Scarecrow asking me all these questions. I'm getting tired of Scarecrow.

I pull my knees up to my chest and place Sharebear between them. Holding myself in place with my free arm, I loop it around my knees and pull tight. The other arm is still in Father's hand.

Harry must be able to tell how aggravated I am, because he stops what he's doing and points at Scarecrow.

"Yeah." I nod.

"So you understand them."

"Huh?"

I was so busy watching Harry I didn't hear Scarecrow talking to me.

Scarecrow leans in and looks at me with his beady little eyes.

"Draco." He's leaning in only a little, but I can smell his breath. It smells like Father's in the morning when he drinks coffee and forgets to brush. "Are you paying attention?"

"Yeah, sure," I lie.

I resist the urge to hold my nose, but that'd be rude. And Father would have my head. Malfoy's always had their mannersSo I settle for sticking it in Sharebear's fur, which smells too, but that's only because he's too scared of the washer. At least it's better than foul doctor's breath.

Scarecrow leans back in his chair and writes something down. Casually, I take my nose out of Sharebear and breathe again.

I look back up to see if Harry's still here, and of course he is. He tends to stick around when I'm frustrated.

I watch him as he jumps up and down. His glasses bob up and slid down tot he bridge of his nose with each jump. His shirt flaring out like a dress exposing his pale belly. 

What on earth is he doing?

Scarecrow is still writing on his clipboard and looking at me. I don't know if he's asking me anything, I'm too focused on Harry.

Why is he jumping like that? He's like a bloody windup toy,he just keeps going. Up, down, up, down, up, down.

Once he sees me watching him he makes a face like he's angry, and at first I tense up, thinking he is, but see he's frowning at Scarecrow and not me. Then she punches his transparent fist through Scarecrow's head.

I shake my head and mouth the word "no."

Instantly, he stops jumping and pretending to beat up my therapist.

"Not now, Harry," I whisper.

He crosses her arms and pouts, stomping his foot once for good measure.

"Harry? Draco, who's Harry?"

Danm it, Scarecrow heard me. Thanks a lot, Harry.

I glare at him, but he just sticks his nose up in the air and storms out through the wall. Little brat.

"Draco?"

"No one." I flash my cutest face and pray it gets me out of this.

"Draco, I'll ask you again. Who's Harry?"

It doesn't work.

"He's one of the, um, people, Draco sees," Father explains. "Draco says Harry's a little boy about his age."

Is nothing sacred?! My own dad, my own flesh and blood, is ratting me out to that thing sitting across from us. For shame, Father. For shame.

You're so getting jelly in your shoes tonight.

"How old is Harry?" Scarecrow asks me.

"He's six."

"So he's not your age then?"

I'm ten. I'll be eleven in a couple months.

"I was six when we met," I explain. "He just never got older."

Scarecrow scribbles this down on his clipboard.

"Why is that?"

Does this guy think I have all the answers in the freakin' world? I mean, seriously, if I could ever get Harry to say more than three words, I'd ask him.

"I don't think he can. If he can, he just doesn't want to."

For the umpteenth time, Scarecrow writes this down on that damned clipboard.

I'm getting real sick of watching him write about me. I'd like to smash him where the sun don't shine with it.

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

"Oh, well, it looks like our time is up."

Oh, thank God! I don't think I could handle being in here another minute.

My dad thanks Scarecrow and they talk about what's on the clipboard. Every once in a while, Scarecrow points to something and they both look up at me and Father nods his head.

I don't understand half of what they're saying, but Scarecrow just keeps blabbering away while Father shoots me worried glances.

After what seems like an eternity, they stop chattering and Father shakes Scarecrow's hand and he reminds him to pay the nurse out front.

I'm so happy to be leaving that I almost forget to wait on Father to leave with me and leave without him.

My bliss is shattered however when I hear the nurse say she'll see me next week after Father pays her.

I force a smile and wave goodbye to her on our way out.

"See, that wasn't so bad," Father lies. He has to have been able to tell how miserable I was in there.

"His breath stinks and he needs to brush his hair."

Father frowns. "Draco, Dr. Cole wasn't that bad. I think he was pretty nice, don't you?"

I snort. "He looks like someone put skin and hair on a broom."

Father signs and unlocks the far. He's not going to push it anymore, I can tell. I know what that sign means.

The drive home seems longer than normal. I rest my head against the window. It's hard not to fall asleep right then and there, but I have too much on my mind right now.

All I can think about is how I have to go back to that God awful shrink and I have to deal with that Harry when I get home.

I'm going to kill Harry for being so bratty. That is, if I can find him.. He has a bad habit of never being around when I need him. Like I said, he just appears and won't leave.

I'm pretty sure Father is telling me something but I can't hear him. I'm too busy nodding off and watching all the trees, cars, and translucent faces pass by.

So this was sorta an AU of a younger Draco who could see ghost. I'm not sure if that was made clear or not. Anyway please review.


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